Not For You
by Half-BPrincess
Summary: Severus Snape is not the best of men, something that not even the hopelessly obsessed Hermione Granger could dispute, and their twisted relationship will always be doomed to failure. But you can't stop watching a train wreck. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART!
1. Prologue

- Prologue -

Hermione hesitated, the gargoyle's password on the tip of her tongue. She took a deep, steadying breath and then she opened her mouth.

"Liquorice wands," Hermione murmured determinedly pushing from her mind the innuendo that Harry had made on their last visit to the headmaster. As she impatiently stood on the revolving stair she wondered why she was being called to the office.

It couldn't be Order business as none of the other students in the Order had been called. Plus, those meetings were held in Snape's office, or classroom under the cover of detentions. It worked fairly well, as most of the junior Order members were Gryffindors, with a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws thrown in for good measure. The only Slytherin to have joined was Theo Nott.

But it couldn't be a Prefect's meeting either, as the other prefects, hadn't been called. She had seen the ever annoying Slytherin prefect, Draco Malfoy, terrifying two young Hufflepuff boys on her way up. If she hadn't already been late for the meeting, she would have berated _him _for making the poor firsties cry.

It couldn't be anything that she, Harry and Ron had done, as the boys weren't with her, and frankly, they had been so busy with school work, and Order work that they hadn't actually broken any rules.

Hermione was also sure that it couldn't be to do with the DA that she had taken over running from Harry either. The last meeting had gone well, and Professor Flitwick was the teacher who observed and dealt with their meetings.

So, as she raised her fist to knock on the door at the top of the staircase Hermione realised that she had no idea at all why she was there. Sighing slightly, she knocked tartly on the polished wood.

The door flew open at once and an unseen hand propelled her into the room, door slamming back into place behind her a moment later. Without thinking, Hermione instinctively ducked down behind the nearest chair, wand sending out a jet of purple light as she went. Just as she was about to peer out from behind her hiding place, and cast another hex she heard the headmaster's famous self-deprecating chuckle.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," his wizened old voice creaked. Hermione stood up and moved around the chair rather sheepishly. "I should have perhaps given you some warning." Hermione struggled to stop herself from laughing at the fully fledged pair of antlers that now protruded from the headmaster's head.

"Perhaps," she acknowledged sagely, noting that the chair she had hidden behind contained a rather careworn Professor McGonagall.

"Albus!" The elder woman hissed in a clear reprimand. "There are pressing matters at hand!"

"Of course, Minerva. I forget myself." The headmaster waved his wand at himself and the antlers disappeared instantly. "Miss Granger, we have called you here as we have a… _task _for you."

"What sort of task?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes slightly, a wary tone edging into her voice. The Headmaster was notorious for his ideas, some of which Hermione thought were completely crazy. He'd wanted Theodore Nott to try to seduce one of the Death Eater children, and had actually suggested Malfoy, conveniently forgetting that Nott was seeing Tracey Davies, and _wasn't _gay. Or at least she didn't think he was. "A task for Hermione the prefect, or for Hermione Harry's best friend, or for Hermione DA leader?"

"For Hermione, member of the Order of the Phoenix." Dumbledore shot back. "Professor Snape is in a spot of bother. He is currently stuck in a Muggle hospital. You are the only available Order member that has any experience with Muggle hospitals, and healing charms. I would ask that you retrieve him for us. I would not ask if we were not desperate, child."

Hermione frowned, crossing her arms across her chest whilst her eyes narrowed ever further. She thought for a moment, organising the questions in her mind into some semblance of order. _First things first, _she decided, _let's work out if I should _actually _go._

"A few questions, headmaster." She said aloud. The old man nodded, as Hermione continued. "Why is he in a Muggle hospital? How do we know that he is there, and that it is actually Professor Snape?"

"Professor Snape was ambushed by several Death Eaters after a meeting last night. I am not entirely sure of the details, but I believe that they found it amusing to leave him at the doors of a Muggle hospital, stopping him from completing any tasks that Voldemort or I have set for him. They removed his wand, and have left it at his ancestral home, for him to collect when he is recovered-"

"Bastards!" Hermione was startled by Professor McGonagall's vehement hiss.

"Yes, Minnie, they are." Dumbledore said consolingly, only to be interrupted by Hermione this time.

"Headmaster, if the Professor doesn't have his wand, how could he have contacted you?"

"No doubt you know Professor Snape is a very powerful wizard, Miss Granger." He said slowly. "But I am not sure how to put his power into context for you. Suffice to say that our Potions Master can perform some acts of strenuous wandless magic. He sent me a Patronus message, giving me his whereabouts. Also, young Mr Nott has informed me that he received an owl from his father corroborating the Professor's story." Hermione nodded again, before sighing in resignation.

"Why am I the only one who can do this?" She asked suddenly, eyebrows drawing together into a frown. "There are other Muggle-born Order members with much more experience than I have, why not use one of them? What about Hestia Jones? She has a lot more experience in the field than I do."

"Madam Jones is… indisposed, at the current time. She is on another, sensitive, mission that she cannot be pulled from, I am afraid."

"Why not Marcus Belby, or Eddie Carmichael?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed. Both of the boys were older than her and Muggleborn.

"Mr. Belby has little experience with hospitals, and Mr. Carmichael has patrol tonight. As he is Head Boy, he cannot switch shifts with anyone except the Head Girl, and Miss Bell is currently in the Hospital Wing after the Gryffindor Quidditch practice held this morning."

"Jeremy Stretton?"

"No experience with healing spells, my dear."

"Lee Jordan?"

"Miss Granger, could you imagine Mr Jordan treating Professor Snape with any dignity? Or without being severely hexed?"

"Melinda Bobbin?"

"No experience with the Obliviate charm, I am afraid."

"Roger- Did you say the Obliviate charm? Why would I need to use the Obliviate charm?"

"Miss Granger, you must understand. If Professor Snape is to save any face with the other Death Eaters, it must appear that he has extricated himself. He will be too weak to cover his own tracks at the hospital, so you must help him. I am afraid if you do not, that things may go badly for him the next time he is summoned. I ask again, child, will you go?"Hermione groaned inwardly, but threw her chin out in strong defiance.

"Fine. Where is he, and how soon can I go?"

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

Forty-three minutes later, Hermione apparated into a dark alleyway next to the Chelsea and Westminster hospital. Quickly, she ran over her story, speaking it aloud softly in an attempt to make it stick more solidly into her memory. She ran a hand through her new hair absently smiling at the silkiness. Professor McGonagall had transfigured her hair black and poker straight, darkened her eyes and given her thinner lips, so that she would match the Professor more closely.

"My name is Louisa Prince. Severus Snape is my uncle, I am to visit him. Louisa Prince. Niece. Prince. Uncle. Louisa." After taking what felt like her thousandth deep, steadying breath, Hermione left the alley, and entered the hospital reception. She walked fairly quickly to the reception desk, where a blonde woman sat, filing her nails.

"May I help you?" She asked, in a snide tone of voice that suggested 'helping' was the last thing on earth she wanted to do.

"Yes you may." Hermione snapped waspishly. "I am here to visit my Uncle, a Mr Severus Snape. If you would tell me where he is?" The blonde sighed and melodramatically threw down her nail file before turned to the computer, and typing something in with manicured patent red nails.

"There is no Severus Snape registered as at this hospital." She said, again in the snide tone. "Are you sure you're at the right place?"

"My uncle is _here_!"Hermione maintained. "I received a phone call telling me so, and so help me god, I will have your _job _if you do not find him for me _this instant_!" The woman sat up a little straighter in her seat.

"If he is not under his correct name, there is nothing I can do." The woman glared at Hermione, eyes ever so slightly narrowed.

"You will call every ward, if you have to, but I _will _see my uncle." Hermione said. "I can imagine this leaking to the papers, the Chelsea and Westminster hospital loses patient!" The receptionist paled.

"If you could give me a description, I'll see what I can do." She said unsurely.

"He's about six foot two, long, black hair, dark eyes, extremely pale skin. He's thirty-seven years old, will have been wearing all black and all of the staff will _hate _him. He will very possibly be refusing medication and treatment. Now _go find_." Hermione was oddly quite pleased with her description, and her mimicry of the dour Professor's manner. In the wizarding world, one would never have had to describe Professor Snape; such an infamous figure in such a small population is well known. The receptionist narrowed her eyes slightly, and pursed her lips.

"I have heard of a man who is… _awkward_." She offered. "I think he had dark hair. I'll call their ward." After a phone call which lasted about a minute and a half the receptionist smiled in a simpering manner. "Your Uncle appears to be in a private room, they're sending a porter over to collect you, if you'll just wait a moment or two." Sure enough, a rather portly porter appeared in front of her, and told her he was to take her to her Uncle.

Hermione noticed that the porter left her at the Nurses' station in the corridor, and scurried away, and that the Nurse on duty only showed her to the door, and not into the room the Professor was in. She hid a small smirk; obviously the Potions Master had lived up to his reputation and chased everyone away.

Hermione knocked on the door, and upon receiving no response, let herself in anyway. The bed was rumpled, but empty. Hermione frowned and looked about the room, drawing her wand, just in case. He forehead smoothed at the sight of a door across from her left slightly ajar. The Professor must have assumed it was another Death Eater.

"Professor?" Hermione called, closing the door behind her and casting a Silencing charm. "Professor, it's Hermione Granger. I've come to take you back to Hogwarts." Still no response. Hermione clutched tightly to her wand, and crept towards the door. She pushed it further open and stopped short at the sight.

Professor Snape, the most loathed and feared teacher in Hogwarts was naked. And his face, instead of being twisted into a fierce scowl was now a visage of peace, and beauty. His eyes were closed instead of glaring. And he was smiling, not smirking. Not just any old smile either. His smile was peaceful and joyous, completely relaxed. He was beautiful.

Hermione's eyes moved from side to side as she registered the room. It was a bathroom with a walk in shower. That's where he was, in the shower. And, of course, there weren't any curtains so that a Nurse could see if a patient had fallen.

Her eyes travelled downwards with the water that cascaded onto his face and neck, following the path down his surprisingly well-muscled chest. He didn't have obvious muscles, but a sort of wiry strength. Sparse dark hair covered his chest, leading downwards to- OH!

Snape (she couldn't look at him naked and call him Professor) was a man. Hermione knew that, yet, when presented with irrefutable evidence couldn't look away. It was quite a large piece of evidence too, she thought to herself. And then his hand slid down across his chest, and he started to touch himself.

He let out a low groan, as his hand wrapped roughly around his member, slowly pulling the foreskin away from his head, and then pushing it back up. His rhythm began to increase, and Hermione could see him using more force, his hand squeezing as he moved. His free hand came underneath, to fondle at his testicles. He groaned again, louder this time, and leaned the back of his head on the wall of the shower.

Hermione moaned slightly in the back of her throat as he came, watching the white ejaculate wash off his hand. When she looked back up to his face, his obsidian eyes were wide open, and staring at her.

"Professor Snape!" She squeaked, much higher pitched than she had intended. "I'm here to take you back to Hogwarts." The man nodded slowly. "I'll just wait out here."

As Hermione whirled around, and exited the room, she missed her Professor's lip curl upwards, into a much more predatory facsimile of his usual smirk, his flaccid penis growing harder once more.


	2. Chapter 1

- Chapter 1 -

It had been an entire month since Hermione had 'rescued' her Potions Professor from the Muggle hospital, and she still couldn't get him out of her mind. Every time she closed her eyes she could see his hands moving sensuously over his own body, teasing himself to climax.

Hermione wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but she was sure that the Professor was watching her. It seemed like each time she raised her head in the classroom, or in the Great Hall he was looking away. And in Potions yesterday, when he had corrected her stirring technique, he had been so close to her that she could smell him. It was an odd scent; hints of sandalwood and male musk mixed in with the usual smells of Potions ingredients.

That night, Hermione had touched herself whilst thinking about him. In the privacy of her four-poster bed with the curtains drawn, and a silencing charm, Hermione had frigged herself to sleep with thoughts of her Potions Professor's naked body. And when she dreamed, she dreamed that it was her hands touching him, and that it was him to bring him to completion.

Her Potions work was suffering too; after all, whenever she was in Potions, he was near to her, and whenever she did a homework assignment she was reminded of him. She closed her eyes once more, seeing his face in front of her…

"Hermione? Are you coming to breakfast or are you just going to sit and stare at the ceiling?" Harry waved his hand in front of her face with a smile. Hermione sighed, and took hold of his hand to pull herself up, sticking her tongue out at Ron.

"Honestly, all you two ever think about is food!" Hermione scolded, finger wagging. They laughed all the way to the Great Hall. Hermione picked at her food despondently. As soon as she had sat down, she had realised what her brain had been trying to deny all morning: First lesson was Potions.

From the moment she stepped into the classroom she had trouble getting her brain to function, and while the Potion she turned in was perfectly acceptable, she knew it could have been better, and that it hadn't been her best work.

"Miss Granger, please stay behind after the lesson." Snape's silky tones breezed across the classroom, startling her. Hermione took a grab at the desk to steady herself, taking her time to put her things away in a useless attempt to calm herself. She idled her way up to the Potions Master's desk, barely looking up at the man as she reached it.

"Professor," barely above a whisper, but his head snapped up and his eyes locked onto hers. Snape's wand whipped out of his sleeve, and with two quick flicks the classroom door was locked and warded.

"Miss Granger, in recent weeks your work has not been up to your usual standard. You are aware of this, correct?" Hermione nodded in response, still steadfastly refusing to look up from her shoes. "This drop in your work has only been noticed in regards to your Potions work. _My _work." Hermione was hard pressed to suppress the shiver of arousal that ran through her at the Professor's possessive claim.

"I… I'm sorry, Professor. I'll try to do better, it's just… just… I…" Hermione's quiet apologies broke off into an awkward silence. Snape sighed.

"I understand, Miss Granger. You find it difficult to concentrate as you have seen me in a compromising position. I realise this may be difficult for you, so I have several options for you. Option number one, I can Obliviate the memory. Option number two, you can remove the memory to a pensieve, where you will be less inclined to dwell on it. Option number three, you drop Potions." He took a deep breath. "Option number four, you try to become more comfortable with me." Hermione thought for a minute or two in silence, Snape's eyes boring into her.

"Well, Professor, I don't think I could ever drop Potions, it's one of my favourite subjects, nor do I think I could submit to being Obliviated - I've read too many horror stories about what happens when it goes wrong. That leaves me with options two and four." Hermione looked up at Professor Snape. "What do you think, sir?"

"Putting your memories in a pensieve will be helpful in the short term, but you won't be able to feel the emotions relating to it. When you return the memories to yourself, you will be back to the same point. Professor Dumbledore has long suggested to me that I have a student-assistant, to help me with some of the brewing that I need done. If you wish to chose the fourth option, I will ask him that you become this assistant." Snape's voice was completely emotionless, giving Hermione no idea as to which option he would prefer.

"If I were to agree to the fourth option, could I count the time spent with you towards a Potions apprenticeship, Professor?" Hermione asked, her mind already racing towards the many possibilities.

"That would be… acceptable." The dour man nodded with furrowed brows. "I take it then, that you have made your choice?" Hermione nodded determinedly. "In that case, I will expect you to arrive at this classroom every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evening at seven thirty. You're dismissed."

Hermione exited the room with her heart thudding solidly in her chest. She was actually going to be in close quarters with Professor Snape three nights a week! Harry and Ron would, obviously not be as enamoured of the idea (or the man) as she was, but Hermione was sure that after years of dealing with them, she would manage to at least subdue them.

Back in the classroom, her Professor smirked to himself, and made a mark in a battered leather journal.

"It begins."

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

Hermione didn't know why she was bothering to do her hair when she knew she was going for an evening of Potions brewing. That was a lie. Hermione knew why. It was for the same reason that she was wearing make-up, and last year's school shirt. She wanted _him _to look at her. Lavender and Parvati had been ecstatic to see Hermione taking an interest in clothes and make-up, so much so that they had gifted Hermione with a pile of beauty magazines, and three books on the subject. Upon skimming through 'Essential Charms for the New-Age Witch', Hermione had suddenly understood how Lavender's hair was always poker-straight. 'Essential Potions for the New-Age Witch' explained Parvati's constantly smooth legs, and 'Essential Transfigurations for the New-Age Witch' explained both of the girls' constantly expanding wardrobes. Really, it was a wonder they didn't get higher marks in their classes.

When she arrived at Severus's - Professor Snape's - classroom ten minutes early, she took a long, deep breath before knocking.

"Enter!" called the silky baritones fiercely. Hermione opened the door tentatively.

"I'm here for the brewing, like you said, Professor." Hermione said in a low voice barely more than a whimper, her eyes on the floor.

"Oh, Miss Granger," Severus - Snape - sounded surprised. Hermione risked a glance upwards only to find him in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a pair of black trousers that clung to his legs. He sat with his feet up on the desk, a pile of parchments on his lap and a quill in his hand. "My apologies, I had lost track of the time. First year's essays seem to get worse every year." He trailed off, lost in speculative thought for a moment.

"Professor?" Hermione asked when it became apparent the man wasn't going to speak again.

"Oh, of course, Miss Granger!" His head tilted to one side as he looked at her appraisingly, Hermione fancied that he might have noticed the special care she had taken with her appearance. "I don't suppose you'd like to help me mark some of these essays? You're more than capable of telling what's right and wrong, and if you need help with insults, you can just ask me?"

"Of course, Professor." Inwardly, Hermione bemoaned the task. If they had been brewing, surely she could have come up with some excuse of needing his help, perhaps with her stirring technique, and then he would have come up behind her, wrapped his hands around hers and…

"Just pull a chair up here, next to me," The professor said blithely, unaware of Hermione's quickening heartbeat. "I'll charm a quill to write in my handwriting, you just need to point the quill at the part of the parchment you'd like to write, and speak what you want it to write." Hermione took a chair from the front of the classroom, and set it down on the opposite side of the desk to the Potions Master. He looked up irritably and shook his head.

"Not there, Miss Granger, next to me," He nodded his head at the space directly to his left, and idly inspected a quill, before tapping his wand to it. "I've charmed it now." He announced with a small smirk. "Now come on girl, get moving! These papers won't mark themselves!"

Nervously, Hermione pulled the chair round next to the man. She was close enough to him that she could touch him, close enough to lean her head on his arm - although that was merely because he was leaning his chair at a very strange angle. Hermione took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and very nearly fainted at the smell of him. He smelt like sandalwood, and potions, and that subtle musk of manliness that said he'd done _work _today. Hermione shivered in her seat, hoping the man wouldn't notice.

"Cold, Miss Granger?" he asked with a frown. Hermione nodded, unable to come up with another reason for her shivering. He sighed a little, and reached at the seat behind him, pulling his frock coat from the back of the chair. "Here, put this on, I can't stand having a fire down here." Hermione took the jacket from his outstretched hand, and slipped it round her shoulders silently.

"Th- Thank you, Professor!" Hermione stammered, her heart beating hard enough to be felt in her throat. "erm… What are these essays on?"

"I'm giving you the fourth year papers on Polyjuice, something you could have written better in your second year, I'm sure." Hermione blushed at the dry tone of his words.

"You- you know about that?" She squeaked.

"Of course I know about that! Who do you think brewed the potions to cure you?" Severus - Snape - smirked at her over his shoulder. "Although, it was a very close run thing. You must have only had one or two ingredients wrong."

"Only one," Hermione smiled ruefully. "I collected a cat's hair instead of a human hair by accident. The potion really did work though."

"How did- Ugh, Potter and Weasley?" The professor mimicked Hermione's rueful smile, and shook his head. "Would I be correct in guessing that this had to do with Misters Crabbe and Goyle being found half naked in a broom cupboard together?"

"Half-naked?" Hermione asked, shocked. "I'm going to kill those boys; they told me they'd nicked the robes before hand."

"I'll take front row seats if you're actually going to kill them, Miss Granger," Severus - Snape remarked dryly. "Now, I believe we both have papers to mark, do we not?" Hermione hummed in agreement, and she started to read through the papers.

Every now and again, she half-noticed Severus's eyes on her as she muttered out a suitable comment for the essay. After the fourth time it happened, she looked up at him, and caught him staring at her with almost a smile. A corner of his mouth was turned up, although only for a moment.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," he bobbed his head in the direction of the marked essays. "but some of your more… venomous comments seemed familiar. I don't remember using any of those on your essays though. You read Potter and Weasley's?"

"And Neville's," Hermione admitted. "You're terribly witty, sir, and the Wizarding World lacks comedians. It's hard to find things to read that are worth laughing at, these days."

"I take it you are not one of those who enjoys the antics of the matching-pair, in that case?" He responded. Hermione was glad to see that he didn't think any worse of her for finding him amusing, but confused at who he referred to. "The Weasley twins. Matching pair." Hermione snorted with laughter at the epithet, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound.

"No, they're terribly childish. I much prefer your form of observant humour." There was a slight pause in the conversation, and Hermione felt her heart drop. She had clearly stepped over the line and made her Professor uncomfortable. "I'm-!"

"It has been a long time since anybody has called me humorous," he admitted slowly. "and those circumstances were not kind to me. However, these circumstances may be acceptable. Thank you, Miss Granger." Hermione beamed at him, then shyly ducked her head back to the essays again, finding a particularly terrible one.

"Your pathetic attempts to fabricate an essay on a subject which you clearly know nothing about will not suffice for an assignment. I would suggest that you ask a first-year student to direct you to the library, a place you clearly haven't previously visited, and rewrite this essay." Hermione was disconcerted to hear a chuckle come from her left.

"Brava, Miss Granger. I don't believe I've ever heard such vitriol from a Gryffindor. I find I must concede that you, too, are humorous." Hermione blushed fiercely at the compliment - the first she had _ever _received from the dour man.

"Thank you, Professor," she replied timidly. "I'm glad you think so." When Hermione went back to marking she was hyper-aware of the Professor listening to the comments she noted down on the parchment. He chuckled a few times at several particularly vicious remarks she made, but Hermione steadfastly kept her eyes on her pile of marking.

It didn't seem like long before she had finished her pile, reaching out for another sheet and finding none waiting. She looked up into the dark eyes of her Professor, who had apparently finished first. They stayed that way, staring at each other for a moment more.

"Prof-" Hermione began uncertainly. She wanted to stay, but would Severus - Snape - let her?

"Tea?" He interrupted. Hermione smiled gratefully.

"I'd love some, unless you happen to have coffee? I don't know how you put up with those terrible essays!" Hermione complained. Severus - Snape - grimaced darkly as he moved over to the fireplace. He took a pinch of Floo powder and called out as he thrust his head into the fire. Hermione couldn't hear what he said, but almost as soon as he popped back out, a House Elf appeared with a tray of tea and biscuits. Hermione almost lunged at the mug of steaming coffee, and a took a deep draught gratefully. "Mmm, this is beautiful."

"It's my own special blend," Severus - Snape admitted. "For the mornings, when I have to drag myself to teach." He said with a grimace, gingerly sipping his own tea. They sat in a companionable silence, drinking their hot brews, both finishing at around the same time. Hermione stood to leave, sure that she could think of no reason to stay, and headed towards the door. The Professor's voice stopped her as she reached the door. "Miss Granger, you will return on Friday evening?" If it hadn't been for the slight waver at the end of the sentence, it would have been an order. Hermione smiled, and half turned back to face him.

"Of course, Professor," she said demurely.

"And Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Return the coat on Friday too. You'll freeze on your way up to Gryffindor Tower."

That night, Hermione slept the first full night's sleep she had had since the hospital rescue. She tried not to think about how related that was to the frock coat that she curled herself round.


	3. Chapter 2

- Chapter 2 -

Friday night couldn't come quickly enough for Hermione. Of course, she saw the Professor in the Great Hall for meals, and in lessons, but it wasn't the same when other people were around. It almost seemed as if he relaxed around her, as if they were both free to be themselves.

She hid the frock coat in her satchel on Friday, having perfected her hair and make-up again. She'd borrowed Harry's cloak too - on the pretext of having a secret date. It wasn't strictly true, but in Hermione's mind it was obvious what the two of them were leading up to. She knocked on the dungeon door and entered at the soft command.

Severus - Professor Snape - was once more seated at his desk, his head in one hand as he idly turned the pages in an old manuscript. He smiled slightly when he looked up at Hermione, the corners of his mouth peaking infinitesimally upwards.

"Finally! I was rather hoping you'd be early. Come on, we're going to the lab." He stood, and swung the heaving book under his arm as he strode over to the rows of ingredients that covered the back wall. Severus - Snape, pulled his wand and tapped the jellied frog's eyes, the pickled beetles and the dried rose petals. The entire wall swung backwards, showing another corridor. Hermione raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Rose petals, Professor?" she asked cheekily, hoping that he was in a good mood.

"Of course, Miss Granger," he responded as he entered the corridor, and opened another door. "Who would guess?"

Hermione found herself staring into what was possibly the most beautiful room she had ever seen. On the far wall was a long bench that held seven cauldrons, all of different sizes and metals, with pre-built, unlit fires. Attached to the right side of the table was what looked to be an ingredients bench with rows of scalpels, and knives and other Potions-related implements. The left wall was covered with shelves that held every Potions ingredient that Hermione could think of, and several that she couldn't even name.

She followed her Professor - _her _Professor, she liked that phrase - further into the room, and gasped in delight as she realised that either side of the door was covered in bookshelves, and a small, green love-seat style sofa sat in an alcove on the right wall, close to the books. Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself, and then turned to the Professor.

"So, what are we brewing, sir?" she asked, a half smile on her face.

"Amortentia," he said slowly. Hermione flushed bright red.

"The love potion?" Hermione forced her heavily beating heart to quiet itself. While she might be excited, now was most definitely _not _the best time for her to pass out. As much as she knew that Severus - _damnit,_ Professor Snape - was a good man, a part of her still wondered if he wouldn't just leave her on the stone floor.

"Yes, Miss Granger." His rich voice held thinly veiled amusement. Hermione inched her legs closer together, trying desperately to ignore the warm feeling in the pit of her belly that had sprung up. "I trust you've heard of it?"

"Of course, Professor." She forced herself to think through the instructions, and ingredients for the potion, taking a deep breath as she did so, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Will we be brewing the base, or working on the latter stages?"

He smiled at that. He _actually _smiled. At _her._ Hermione had to resist the temptation to do a little happy-dance at his expression.

"The latter stages, or as far as we can get tonight. I brewed the base last Saturday, so it has sat for ample time. I see no point in brewing it again, it is not something that you will gain knowledge by brewing." Hermione nodded for him to continue. "Do you have any need to re-examine the brewing instructions?"

"No thank you, sir." Hermione demurred. "I have an eidetic memory, so unless your version is different to that of our Potions textbook…?"

"The instructions will be the same," he clarified. "Now then, to test that memory, I think that you should find the first set of ingredients that we will need."

Hermione was happy with the brewing, despite having been corrected more times than she could ever remember. Severus - Professor Snape - had put his hand over her own to show her better ways of slicing ingredients, of holding her knife, or her stirring rod. He'd corrected her stirring, moving behind her and placing both of his hands over her own. Hermione had thought she was about to spontaneously combust, feeling his warm chest press tightly against her back.

"Smooth circles, you see, Miss Granger? _Smooth_." He'd said in a low voice near to her ear. Hermione smiled a little, just thinking about it. She was stirring again now, this time in a figure eight movement. Severus - Professor Snape - was getting the next set of ingredients; moth wings. Hermione half turned to see him pulling the large glass bell jar from the shelf.

Later, Hermione would swear that she looked back to the potion for a moment only, but a moment was all it took.

With a great crash the jar smashed to pieces on the floor, scattering the wings around the room. Hermione turned away from the potion to see Severus - Professor Snape - clutching at his left arm. He hissed out in pain, stalking from the room. One hasty stasis spell later and Hermione was racing after him.

"Se- Sir?" A flash of black cloak through a door further down the corridor, Hermione ran into the room, a sitting room, still calling for him. "Professor, are you- I mean - is it _him_?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, it is." His voice was grave, coming from another room. "I must go to him. There is Floo powder on the mantel, tell the Headmaster once I have left. You may stay to clean up, and finish the potion, if you wish to."

When he reappeared in the sitting room his tight fitting robes had been exchanged for looser ones, and he held a silver mask in his hand. Hermione gasped at the look in his eyes… he was _deadly_.

"I will return, Miss Granger." He told her seriously. And then, with a pinch of Floo powder, he had stepped into the green flames. "Shrieking Shack." He called out, eyes still on Hermione. And then he was gone.

Hermione stood for a minute, perhaps two in shock, before moving towards the fireplace. Reaching for the boat on top of the mantel, she took a pinch of powder and threw it into the fireplace.

"Headmaster's office," she called out as she stuck her head into the green flames. Her head came out in the elder man's office immediately, although it took Hermione a few moments to recognise it from the strange perspective. It took the Headmaster only a moment to appear in front of her, kneeling gracefully on a pillow clearly left next to the hearth for that purpose.

"Miss Granger," he said gently. "What may I do for you today?"

"Professor Snape has been summoned, sir. I will be waiting in his laboratory for his return." The old man frowned, but nodded willingly.

"Hermione?" He asked quickly, before she could remove her head.

"Headmaster?"

"He will Floo back to his quarters, you should wait there." Hermione smiled tightly at the older man and nodded, taking her head fully out of the fire, ready to sort out the tasks that Severus - Professor Snape - had allocated to her.

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

Severus bowed low to the ground as he apparated in from the Shack. He didn't even attempt to work out where he had landed, his Master was there, he could feel it. His Master hadn't yet let him down, and if Severus could help it, his Master would never have cause to either.

"Sssseverussss," came the sibilant hiss that sent shivers shuddering southwards towards his spine. "My mosssst faithful."

"My Lord," Severus spoke softly, demurely, keeping his voice, and face low. It would not do to antagonise his Lord.

"What newssss do you have for me, Sssseverussss?" His Master asked curiously. Severus cautiously raised his head, dipping a hand into his robes to feel for a potion vial that he had carried with him for days, just waiting for his Master to summon him, so he could present his latest creation.

Black, obsidian orbs met crimson red, and suddenly his Lord was inside of Severus's mind. Severus revelled in the feeling, it wasn't often that Master submerged himself in another's thoughts, and Severus gave up all control over the direction of the thoughts that passed through his brain, letting his Master decide what was important, and necessary.

With shaking hands he raised the red vial as the memory of creating it, and of brewing it sprung to mind.

"You created thissss potion for me, Sssseverussss?" His Lord asked slowly. Severus nodded, too weak to do anything else. "What a good boy you are. I sssshall have to give you ssssomething, if it workssss. A reward. What do you dessssire?" Severus forced his mouth to open, for coherent sounds to fall from his parched lips.

"I wish for Potter's Mudblood friend, my Lord." Severus said, proud that his voice didn't waver the same way his heartbeat did. "I wish for you to order me to seduce her." Lord Voldemort chucked deeply.

"Ahh, Sssseverussss, the conssssumate Sssslytherin to the endssss of time, dear one. It will pleasssse me to grant you this wissssh. To defy Dumbledore, and to ruin the Potter boy'ssss friendsssship. A good choice, Sssseverussss." Severus bowed his head shallowly in acknowledgement of the compliment.

"I have brought another vial of the potion, Master, that you may test on another person, should you wish." Severus hesitated, pulling out the other vial and dropping to one knee. "I would volunteer myself, if my Lord should wish…"

A feral grin and a call for Wormtail was the only response Severus got. Around an hour later Wormtail had lost an eye, had several choice scars that rivalled Mad Eye Moody's, and the skin on the left side of his face had melted, all at their Master's wand.

Wormtail, of course, being the little rat, had attempted to dodge the first curse. At his Master's instruction, Severus held Wormtail under the Imperius curse to make him stand still. The body-bind hex would also have worked, but Severus shared the smiles and laughter of his Master as Wormtail screamed, and cried, and begged for mercy. The twit should know better, in their Lord's domain, _there was no mercy._

Severus commanded Wormtail to take the vial from his hand, and to drain it. Only seconds after it had been taken did Wormtail's face begin to twist, and his body contorted in on itself. When he stood again, he looked the model of the man that he had been at age twenty-five. All of the scars had disappeared, the melted flesh looked as new.

With another grin, the Dark Lord drained the potion.

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

Hermione had lined up the most effective set of pain-reducing potions that she could brew on the coffee table in the sitting room. And then, thinking on the Cruciatus, a few muscle relaxants too. Then she turned down the Professor's bed, clearly not taking the time to sniff at his pillows and stroke the wonderfully soft sheets. And then, to stop herself from prying further, Hermione had taken a wonderful book on Potions from the lab, settling herself on the settee to read it.

Severus - Professor Snape - returned at around one in the morning. He looked surprisingly well to Hermione's untrained eye, but as soon as he spied her he frowned darkly, and shook his head sternly.

"Miss Granger, come with me to the Headmaster's office." With that he turned and stepped back into the green flames, leaving Hermione with little choice but to obey.

The Headmaster - as always - was sitting serenely behind his desk, half moon glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. He smiled genially at Hermione as she stepped out of the grate, and nodded towards the seats in front of his desk. Obviously, Severus - Professor Snape - was pacing instead of sitting down, as usual for the man. Hermione could swear that she only saw him sit when he ate.

"Headmaster," he began, his voice rough and cracked. "I… I do not know how to proceed. The Dark Lord… he has… he has given me a task, a task that I am unsure with how to proceed."

"Well, my boy, if you need Miss Granger's help in making Potions, I am sure that she can spare more time from her studies." Dumbledore smiled jovially. Severus shook his head fiercely.

"No, sir, it is not a potion. I… It…! Just look! Please!" His voice broke painfully on the last word. Hermione sat, rooted to her seat as Dumbledore gently looked into the Professor's eyes, holding the gaze for only a moment.

"Ah, my boy, I see." He, too, frowned. "But you will simply have to tell Voldemort that you cannot complete the task." Severus's head was already shaking.

"Sir, you saw what he did to Pettigrew… what he made me…! Peter was late in feeding Nagini. If I were to fail him in a task, I am not sure that I would survive till the morn'."

"But we cannot allow Miss Granger to be dragged into this!" Dumbledore bristled. "She is underage, and still a student at this school!"

"I think, Headmaster, that I am plenty old enough to make my own decisions about whether I am to be 'dragged' into a situation or not!" Hermione interjected with a level voice. Both men turned to her shocked, apparently having forgotten her presence in the room.

"I… You are right." Severus - Professor Snape deflated, refusing to look towards the headmaster. "Miss Granger, I will show you in the Pensieve. I only ask that you not judge me too harshly, nor make a rash decision."

"I am not known for my rash decisions, Professor." Hermione stood, drawing herself up to her full height, her chin tilted firmly upwards. "And I, as with the others in the Order, understand that your duties as a spy mean that you must do things that you would rather not. I refuse to judge you for the great service that you provide us." _That, and I'd probably still want to throw myself at you no matter what you'd done_, Hermione finished her speech with the silent thought, although she did make sure that her eyes weren't facing either of the men in the room. Wouldn't it be awkward if they just _read _her thoughts from her mind?

Dumbledore stepped forwards, almost perfectly poised to object, but a stern glare from Hermione had him sitting back in his seat resignedly. A swish of his wand and a stone grey pensieve with runes etched into the sides flew out of a cupboard to land with a soft thud on the desk. Severus - Professor Snape - stood in front of her, eyes boring into her own.

"Miss Granger, the Dark Lord does not look… as he has previously." He began hesitantly. "He had me brew him a potion, one to change his appearance permanently to the man that he was at twenty-five. I… I did not ask him for a reward, Miss Granger. Please understand that, if nothing else, this was - is - the bidding of the Dark Lord."

Hermione nodded, watching in abstract fascination at the string of silver memory attached to her Professor's wand. He dipped it into the bowl, stirring slightly. One more approving glance from each of the men in the room, and Hermione dropped her head into the pensieve.

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

Severus - Professor Snape - had been right. Voldemort did look different. He looked rather… handsome, all things considered. Hermione shuddered at the thought - Voldemort was a deranged psychopath, and good looking or not her heart was taken by a better man, a good man. By Severus.

"Ahh, Sssseverussss, it feelssss wonderful!" He hissed, joy clearly etched into every fibre of his being. "I think that you desssserve a reward for thissss, but what can I give to you?" Voldemort's head tilted to the side just as Hermione's own did whenever she was working on a particularly tricky problem.

"My Lord, I ask for nothing but the pleasure of serving you further," Severus bowed low, eyes demurely at the stone floor.

"Look into my eyessss, my clever sssspy!" He hissed. Severus's head jerked upwards immediately. Voldemort took a step closer to him, taking Severus's chin roughly in his hands, drawing their eyes closer together. "Ahh, Dumbledore hassss forced you to apprentice this Mudblood of Potter'ssss, hassss he?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied, his voice strained by the stretched position of his neck.

"Then sssshe, the girl will be yourssss. My thank you…" Voldemort threw his head back and laughed manically. "You musssst sssseduce her, Sssseverussss! Usssse her to get information on the Potter brat! And, once we have killed the resssst, you may keep her assss your concubine!"

"Thank you, my Lord." Severus said slowly as Voldemort released his tenuous hold on his neck. "You are generous."

"Only for my mosssst faithful." Voldemort laughed again, then twitched slightly. "I will give orderssss that sssshe issss not to be touched by any hand other than your own, Sssseverussss, unlessssssss you expessssssssly ssssuggesssst it!"

- HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP - HBP -

Hermione pulled her head from the pensieve, doing her very best to look as conflicted as she was sure she ought to be feeling after the scene she had just watched. Inside she was all but jumping for joy; she could be with her Severus without hurting his position as a spy!

"I… If you don't, will he kill you?" Hermione asked, faking anxiety rather well in her own, humble opinion. Severus shrugged.

"It is anyone's guess, Miss Granger. I, personally, think that he would be more likely to maim, or to seriously injure me. He likes to have a spy in Dumbledore's camp."

"I… I…" Hermione took a deep breath, looking up into the obsidian orbs of her professor, _her_ professor. She reached out with her left hand, taking his larger hand in hers. "I couldn't bear it if you got hurt and it was my fault, sir. I think that we should do as he says."

"Thank you, Miss Granger."


	4. Chapter 3

- Chapter 3 -

"Miss Granger, this is _not _a social hour! If Weasley cannot manage to brew this potion without your help then he does not deserve to be a member of this class. You will stay behind after the lesson to discuss your cheating."

Hermione simultaneously elbowed Ron and kicked Harry as they both opened their mouths to protest.

"Drop it!" She hissed. "I'll deal with it."

Ron rubbed his arm and pouted, glaring at her, while Harry just glared at Snape.

"But Hermione, that git just gave you detention for nothing!" Ron whispered back. "And that really hurt!"

"Oh, stop being such an idiot, Ronald." Hermione replied, stirring anti-clockwise. "What makes you think that this isn't _business_?"

"But he only gave _you_ a detention, Hermione." Harry interjected. "What's going on that-?"

"Potter, as Miss Granger has already been reminded that this is a Potions lesson, and not a social gathering, you will remove yourself from this room and write me a three foot essay on the uses of each ingredient in this potion and the uses _of _this potion. You will not set foot in this class until it has been completed to an acceptable standard." Severus - Professor Snape - stood right behind them, and Hermione even fancied that she could smell him, just slightly. "Miss Granger, you will move into Potter's vacated seat, I will not have Weasley attempting to cheat again."

Hermione nodded her gratitude at her Professor and moved over, glad of the respite from the questions. Under Severus's - Professor Snape, dammit! - watchful glare, Harry didn't say another word as he left.

Ron offered her a sympathetic smile as he left the dungeon room at the end of the lesson, having handed in a potion termed 'troll-standard'. Hermione cleaned up slowly and methodically, giving enough time for all of the Slytherins to leave before she had to speak with Severus - Professor Snape.

Malfoy was the last to leave the classroom, accidentally-on-purpose knocking his shoulder into Hermione, causing her to drop her bag with a rather loud thump.

"Dropped something, Mudblood?" Malfoy taunted, he smirked up at the front desk, obviously proud of his juvenile stunt. He leaned in to Hermione again, but was suddenly jerked backwards by Severus's hand gripped in his hair.

"You will not touch Miss Granger." His deep baritone commanded. "Apologise."

"I… I… Professor, you can't expect me to-"

The slap rang out across the dungeon.

"Apologise."

"I… I'm sorry, alright?" Malfoy's voice was so high that Hermione could have mistaken him for a eunuch.

"Now learn your lesson and _leave_." Malfoy exited without another word said. The Professor sighed heavily and sat back at his desk, eyes closed with his face turned upwards to the ceiling.

"He'll send a letter to his father, you know." Hermione broke the silence. Severus nodded, seemingly uncaring. "His father will tell Volde- oh!" Hermione thought aloud. "Touché, sir."

"Do you know how long I've waited to give that brat a piece of my mind?" The dark eyes had opened, and locked onto Hermione. "I must admit I'm glad that it was for a worthy cause."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione breathed gently.

"Severus." The Potions Master corrected.

"Severus?" Hermione repeated dumbly, half-sure that she had imagined it.

"My name. The Dark Lord will expect for you to use it, Miss- _Hermione._"

"Yes, Severus." Severus. The name sounded so beautiful on her tongue, the sibilant syllables slipping easily from her mouth.

"I wanted to... ah, warn you, that my behaviour will be changing, somewhat. Also, our apprentice brewing sessions will not be taking place any longer-"

"Why?" Hermione interrupted, eyes flashing. "There's nothing wrong with-"

"I was going to suggest that we spent the time in my quarters, so as to get to know each other better, but you are correct; we will continue to brew so that the Dark Lord may see us grow to interact more naturally." Severus - Merlin, she could actually call him that now! - smiled wryly. "Do not look so shocked, Hermione. I can at least admit a better idea in private."

Hermione had never wanted to kick herself so badly. How stupid could she be to ruin the chance of evenings in Severus' quarters? Damn, damn and damn again!

"But, wouldn't Vol-" Hermione rephrased at Severus' slight flinch at the name. "You-Know-Who expect you to have told Dumbledore about your task, so he'd expect you to be a bit more obvious in seducing me, wouldn't he?"

Her Professor frowned in thought.

"Perhaps you are right, Miss Granger. In that case, he will expect that I were to court you… You will meet me in the entrance hall on Friday before dinner, I shall be taking you for a meal. Dress appropriately."

"I-er- What shall I tell people, sir?" Hermione asked nervously. "Surely they will notice me leaving with you, and I would imagine that You-Know-Who will be expecting for the relationship to become public knowledge, won't he?"

"Severus." He corrected absently, sitting forwards and frowning. "You are correct in your speculation. The Dark Lord will expect that it becomes known, the Death Eater children will feed back information to their parents as well. Yet, if the Board of Governors were to find out – I should be out of a job. It is a conundrum, Miss- Hermione."

"You'd be fired because of Hogwarts by-law 172, section C?" Hermione mused. Severus nodded. "That only mentions teacher-student relationships, there's no mention of teacher-apprentice relationships..."

HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP – HBP -

"And finally, I would like to congratulate Miss Hermione Granger on being the third youngest Hogwarts student in history, and in fact the youngest woman, to be accepted into an apprenticeship. Miss Granger will be apprenticing with Professor Snape, and will be referred to as Apprentice Granger with all of the powers of a full staff member in regards to discipline." A very half-hearted applause followed the Headmaster's wave. "Apprentice Granger will not be attending lessons, and will be moving from the Gryffindor dorms. I ask that you all make this transition easier on her by not all ambushing her for details as soon as I stop speaking."

Hermione mentally sighed. In typical Dumbledore fashion the man had made things as awkward as possible. She had planned to talk to Harry and Ron after dinner about the apprenticeship, but now she'd have to either talk around the rest of Gryffindor or attempt to find somewhere to talk alone with them...

"Hermione?" Harry tugged on her left arm, frowning. "Dumbledore... He's making it up, right? You're not apprenticing to _Snape_, not really, right?"

"Actually, Harry, I am. And how many times do I have to tell you that it's _Professor _Snape?"

"But, bloody hell Hermione it's _Snape!"_ Ron roared. "You can't go near that greasy git, who knows what he'll do to you!"

Hermione rose to her feet, and the more intelligent members of Gryffindor House (Ginny and Neville) edged away from the cold glare that swept down the table.

"Hermione, just tell him that you don't want it." Harry begged, one hand still on her arm.

"Yeah, 'Mione! Tell him to go fuck himself!" Ron added.

With a swift flick of the wrist, Hermione's wand was in her hand with ten and three quarter inches of vinewood pointed between Ron's eyes. A pale hand with long fingers slowly, carefully wound around her wrist pulling it down. Amber eyes turned to meet obsidian orbs.

"Ronald Weasley," She said, without looking away.

"Mione?" He replied, gulping.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your inappropriate language. And, to you, it is Apprentice Granger." Shaking her hand free, she span around and stalked from the Great Hall.

"Another twenty points for your disrespect towards _my _apprentice, Weasley." Snape snapped before turning and following his apprentice from the room.

He found Hermione just where he had expected her to be; pacing outside of the door to his office. She gave a wry smile as he waved his wand over the lock, gesturing her into the room. Neither of them spoke until they had passed through the office into his personal lab. Hermione perched herself on the cushioned seat next to his bookshelves.

"Bloody Dumbledore." Was the first she said. "They'd have been bloody reasonable if I'd had a bloody chance to explain it!" She pulled her feet up onto the cushion, holding them to her body.

"Perhaps you should think on something else, for a time?" Severus suggested carefully. "They will come running back to you in due course. Likely when one of them is failing, or needs your help to recover after taking an immeasurably foolish course of action." Hermione smiled at that.

"Sounds like them," she sighed. "I just... I just wish that they'd trust in me a little bit more! I am a grown woman, and a capable witch, I can take care of my bloody self!"

"That is something that I am aware of. Whilst Potter has some talent in Defence, it is apparent that the majority of his real-world success is down to two factors; pure, unadulterated, idiotic luck, and yourself. I would, in fact, wager, that that is one of the reasons that the Dark Lord wishes for you and I to become... better acquainted."

"There's no need to beat around the bush, Severus. We must become used to the charade, lest Vold-" She paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "I think that we need to spend some time getting to know each other, getting comfortable with each other. I don't want for our- for Friday to appear awkward, which I'm sure it would otherwise, if you can see. I doubt that You-Know-Who would expect us to act like an old married couple, but we should, at least be-"

A finger on her lips stilled her chattering immediately. Hermione felt her throat go dry, and she had a budding urge to lick her lips. That this would bring her tongue into contact with Severus's long, elegant finger was just... just a coincidence, really. Really. It was.

"Miss Gr- Hermione." Severus breathed lowly. "I think, that this conversation would be better suited to my quarters."

Hermione grasped the hand he held out to her without a second thought.

- HBP – HBP- HBP – HBP – HBP -

**A/N: **Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me... Pretty much everything has been updated today, so check out the new installments of everything else too!


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